Sunday, October 09, 2016

so I was reading this thing about Cultural Appropriation (apparently it's A Thing and I should be ashamed of all the times I wrapped my baby (who is nearly eleven now what the fuck??) up and/or tossed him in a whatsamagoo and threw him on my back, and all it did for me was want to yell at the idiots saying "I hate baby wearers plus skull and cross bones and *spit spit* on your grave" because, seriously, why would you have such a strong opinion when you're clearly an ignorant asshole (I think I just answered my own question) So I had to tell them (I'm looking atchoo, Louise) how dumb they are it's not all bad to wear your kid. Here. On my I'm Not Dead Despite All Appearances)(but I have been really unwell) blawg. Where they (LOUISE) will never see it anyway. Because, roar, y'all. ROAR.
(and also, HI!)
***
Baby Bjorns are a relatively shit way to carry your infant so it's a good idea to research the whats and whys of carriers or
wraps before you shove your soft and squishy newborn into anything carrier-esque.
A
hard structure that controls your baby's posture as opposed to a softer
one that supports it can provide too much pressure on their pelvis, and
they don't encourage the baby's natural spinal "c" curve. They also kind
of plunk your baby in so, without the carrier, it would fall away from
you so, posturally, you're pulling up against a weight hanging from your
body - that's why you get sore lower back, and why Baby Bjorn
developed a back brace for the wearers .
Wearing a baby that is
essentially strapped to your body in a way that doesn't affect your
centre of gravity or allow your baby to fall out if you did a hand
stand, much less if you bent over to tie your shoes, is structurally
superior - and having your baby against your heart isn't really a wanky
thing either. It actually does really and truly (but may be on a smaller
scale than a Whoa, This Thing Is Keeping Mah Kid ALIVE thing) help
regulate their breathing, heart rate, and blood pressure, (that's why
Kangaroo Holding is so important to premature babies, and why babies who
aren't held enough can fail to thrive) it levels
out their responses to external stressors (that' a biggy too), and
carried babies don't cry as much because they don't need to. You're
already there! (so big it's made of Win!)
And! A well worn baby
has its age related C curve supported too. The cute-as-all-hell shape they have that makes them
snuggle up against you when you hold then.
Demonstration time:
attach a head at the top end and some little itty bitty feet at the
bottom end of this -> C and now imagine it snuggling against you
like the cutest, babiest koala bear. Aw.
You don't get that kind of hoomahgord SO CUTE factor from a structured carrier. The end.
(but give me half a chance [or provide me with a passive/aggressive stroller/capsule specific run in with LOUISE] and I"ll bang on about why baby containers are stupid too)

Saturday, March 09, 2013

Daniel's not an idiot so he's not being a dismissive twat because he hasn't worked out cause and effect. He's making a conscious decision to close his ears (and raise my blood pressure), and honestly, because he's NOT stupid, THAT's why I find this so difficult. We're a team, I tell him. Respect, consideration, bla bla bla bla chuffing BLA. He gets three shots until the Voice Of God is engaged, not because I've lost it but because I HAVE to use it to get stuff done, and I don't like using that voice because a) ouch, and b) it's a never ending cycle where my voice is going to get sterner and sterner until I'm yelling for him to hear me, never mind listen.

So how do you short that circuit when you've already taken his stuff away and the only voice he hears is the one you make the decision to use because talking to him like he has ears? DOESN'T WORK.

And his ears work juuuust fine because I've tested them using the old, whispering softly from the kitchen, Would You LIke A Gift? ruse, and dude passes EVERY TIME. He's also a slow learner because he falls for it EVERY TIME. so I take this into consideration when expecting the cause and effect thing to register with him before I sign the adoption papers.

There's no lego or reading until he's dressed and his teeth are brushed. His brand new nerf gun (NOT my purchase, but none of the fuckwits around me who call themselves "family" are on board with me here because, while we have an amnesty of buying him anything because of this bs, they're all, oh he's fine and here, have another gift) (and we are a gun family because have you ever shot up your Christmas tree with Nerf? It takes Freakin' Awesome to a whole new level)

I HATE having to go all stern on his ass to get him to put a fucking pair of pants on. When it comes to tht - which it always does - I feel like shit, so I feel like shit a whole lot of the time because he mentally shuts me out, like, ALWAYS. May be it's my love language or whatever the hell, but when I'm ignored, I feel unloved and insignificant. My cross to bear, and I'm working on it, but still, I'd like to not NEED to rewire a lifetime of programming to cope with my kid.

My instructions are simple, single directions that I've learned through research (I even do fucking RESEARCH) that simple instructions like "Get dressed" are more effective on boy brains than something highly complex like "get dressed then brush your teeth" but nope, nothing. When he gets up, it's "get dressed now, darlin", and he's all "okay!" and happyfacehelpful, but unless I stand over him, it'll take until I get my DO IT NOW voice on for things to happen, and even then, no guarantee.

Then the same thing happens with brushing his freakin' teeth. He's been to school in his pyjamas before, and his hair is never brushed because I don't care if he goes to school looking like a hippie. Even the, it's not that he doesn't DO stuff, it's that he chooses to not register my voice.

We talk when the situation isn't happening. We're a team and I need him to consider what matters to me, and it matters to me that we're not late bla bla bla.

I tell himt my instructions make his life easier - he doesn't need to think, stuff gets done, and we start our day well and there's no bad juju.

He's lost lego, been grounded, has been denied pool privileges (we dont have a pool, we go to the pool, and we went to the pool and he wasn't allowed in. You'd think, right? And yet), and has demonstrated time and time again his complete lack of attachment to his possessions and potentially awesome events, which is cool but denies me any bargaining power. We have a No TV rule here too, because tv makes his brain fall out for at least 24 hours, and fuck that shit, seriously.

He lies now too which, aargh.

Has he fed the cat? yes. So she has water and food for today? Yes.

OH REALLY?

He sounds like an asshole and in writing this down, oh my god, HE SOUNDS LIKE AN ASSHOLE, but he's also a really nice kid who wants to do well but can't get a handle on not being giant wanker, and it's my job to help him not be a giant wanker, so if one if us is failing more here, it's me.

The Positive Feedback For Positive Change plan is in action because it always has been, but there's only so many times you can say "Whoa dude. You've done a great job with your teeth. SO SHINY!" without him giving enough of a shit to repeat the action to earn more praise before you realise he's a freaking' buddhist and doesn't mind if that praise is for a one off, singular event .

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Last year, it was easier to identify the problem, which was school, and where he didn't want to go, which wasn't enough of a reason, so I pulled it apart and found a complex number of reasons, all with school as ground zero.

So I don't just sit with "I don't know" or "I don't want to go". I dissect the shit out of it because, for example, "I don't want to go" could have its basis in "I have no friends", "Ben hits me", and "I feel like everyone hates me".

But I don't know what's behind "I don't know" yet, and I don't know if I need to look because Daniel is HAPPY. I suspect there are some time management slash he's a boy and his brain fell out years ago factors; he loves to read and he loves lego, and they're usually what holds us up. The problem though, is not the reading and the lego, it's his defiance - subtle as it is - because every day I say "get dressed first, then it's free time" and every day he might as well say "fuck you, mum". Which is how it feels, anyway, and why I have SUCH a problem dealing with this practically and without getting bent out of shape.

Last year I could because it wasn't personal. This year it feels personal and I know this is part of his growing independent blablabla, but I don't know how to help him with that because I'm his mother and it's been my job to break his balls. In fact, one of my concerns has long been that, as a single parent with no valuable extended family input (think too much? YATHINK?), he sees no end to my dominance. Family unit? Extended family unit? He'd observe it as it ebbs and flows throughout my relationships with him nd others. Others would get to take the lead with him while I deferred to them, he'd see me having adult relationships where compromise and respect factor more into the outcome than "GET DRESSED NOW" does.. With me only on board though, he ONLY sees me running the show, and with this shit going on and with the negotiations, our talks about considerations and respect and compromise going completely NOWHERE, it always ends back at "GET DRESSED NOW" anyway and I feel like I've failed (again) and Daniel feels like he's a bad kid and that he's failed again and that he's let me down again and repeat repeat repeat.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Daniel changed schools this year because last year was a total wailfest. No kidding, the dude hid UNDER HIS BED when he wasn't HIDING IN THE WARDROBE. Which has been allcapsed because omfg.

Starting school was a joy for him. He LOVED it. Meanwhile, I cried for almost two weeks, but then I stopped with that shit, but only because I was assaulted a couple of weeks into the term (While at McDonalds. I know, right? Everyone else goes in there for a happy meal. I go there for a violent encounter and a few broken ribs. Only me, peeps, and you know it) and rending my garments hurt too much after that.

So there was kind of a harsh on Daniel's first weeks of his first year at school buzz, and it was probably being at school with his awesome teacher who I loved SO MUCH (me, sometime in 2011; "No, really, Sarah. You could paint him green with purple stripes and I'd be all 'Seriously, I love it.'") that helped him adapt from being a little dude with a very physical mum (Hugs! Piggyback rides! Lap sits! Hand holding! Wrestling! Hip carrying all the freaking time!) to a dude with a mum who regularly lost her shit and couldn't even hold his hand.

Then I lost my job because of the assault and began my degree instead which bla bla, long related story bla, so pretty much everything about Daniel's life did a 180 in an instant (and thank god for school, because he really, really did love it there. Love love loved it)

The main thing though is that from late February 2011, Daniel suddenly had a mother with anger management issues that got worse and worse. And then, mum died, and then everyone else died, and by the start of school the following year, I was a basket case. So when Daniel started saying he hated school and began with the ass dragging, crying, hiding bizzo that made us late literally every. single. day last year, I figured it was because I was a flaming nutcase. Then, mid year (because I am onto this parenting shit, y'all. ONTO IT) I realised home Daniel hadn't changed much, despite all the shit I'd heaped on him (because he is awesome and maybe because I was awesome enough for the first five years of his life that, while I was confusing him with my bullshit, I wasn't changing him. Or something. Hell, I don't know. Jellybeans?) but school Daniel was another story entirely.

So the whole "my baby needs help" saga began, which wouldn't have even been a saga had they only changed his fucking class assignment. And while I knew Daniel was making us late every.single. day because angst, woe, emo, it was still every. single. day. and it about killed me.

So when this happened, I was ecstatic because I figured the Making Me Late For EVERYTHING bullshit would stop too.

It has not.

Clearly I need to change my tactics to make this not happen - but how any ways can you rework this shit before you decide to adopt the little bastard out hit the jackpot and find something that actually works?

Daniel has gone to school in his pyjamas, fgs. Twice. He's had things taken from him that he has to earn back. He hardly earned any of it back, but we had school break up over summer so he got it back then, and besides, I don't have the room to keep his everything on a shelf, nor do I have the emotional steadfastness to not rip his face off if this keeps up for much longer.

Friday, February 08, 2013

Daniel changed schools this year. It's the end of the first week now, and I don't think I've ever seen him so happy. He's such a happy kid anyway that I couldn't imagine his stratospheric happy factor being inched up even a little, much less skyrocketing as it has done these past few days. Watching him now is like watching one of those
two part fireworks, the ones that make you go "Oh! Wow!" when it explodes in the sky, but then it
explodes again and it's bigger and brighter and you didn't expect it and, "OH!! WOW!!"
because that first part was so great, but now this. THIS.